


Sage and Syrup

by pendaly



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drug Use, Fluff, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendaly/pseuds/pendaly
Summary: Gamzee and Karkat smoke juggalo-weed and cuddle.





	Sage and Syrup

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse.

You don't know when you found out Gamzee had started smoking this stuff. It was a few perigees ago you think. You'd been asking him about quitting slime. How that was going. He'd produced a pipe and told you, "Shit's kinder'n slime. Don't rot your pan like slime do, brother. Still gets a brother mighty fine. All loose an' motherfuckin' melodic up in this bitch." 

It's something the church smokes that smells like sugar and something herbal and ceremonial. Like burning sage and syrup. If the whole church smokes that shit, and it's gotten him off slime, you decide it's not so bad. You decide it's better than when Gamzee couldn't tell the difference between uppercase and lowercase his pan was so fried and gone. Gamzee doesn't get like that on this stuff. You've seen him smoking it off and on for weeks now and he's responsive, even if he still has that slow kind of haze around him. At least he hears you and sees you when you talk to him. Most nights even he's started spending sober. He doesn't depend on the stuff like he did on sopor and it's a relief to see. Being off of it doesn't give him withdrawal hallucinations like sopor did. 

You do your own research into this stuff from time to time because quite frankly, you don't trust it. It's some sort of mild hallucinogen. Not one that causes actual hallucinations like slime did to Gamzee, but something that makes the world feel different as far as you can tell. Something about altered perception of time and sensory input that you don't totally follow. Most of the church records you look into claim it's not inherently addictive and you can't seem to find much research outside of the Church's public databases on the subject. 

If the church has been inhaling this shit for epochs, you suppose it's probably safe.

* * *

You're laying splayed out next to Gamzee on the pile you two share from time to time and you're on one of your infamous long-winded rants about something mostly trivial. You know it's trivial, but you don't know how to shut up the word vomit that comes spilling out of your mouth when you really get going, "And so like a complete fucking moron, I left my shit in the lockers where Dileha usually hangs out which set me up for having to listen to that shitlicker gush about his stupid matesprit and his fucking macrame patterns. I don't know why I can't just figure out how to walk past him and tell him to shut the fuck up I'm not interested. I mean I know why, but-"

Gamzee's hand falls over your mouth and he shushes you, giving your cheeks a few pats, alternating sides and then stroking his thumbs over your cheeks, "Bro, you got your thinkin' on all way too fuckin' hard. You gotta just up an' relax, motherfucker. Keep bein' all too hard on yourself an' the people 'round you too."

You open your mouth to retort and he just shushes you again, rubbing his thumbs into your temples and you make the quietest little croon as he rubs away the tension that gathers from having your jaw clenched all night.

"You got all this motherfuckin' hatred all stored up in your little head, You ever know it that sometimes things just up an' motherfuckin'  _ happen. _ An' it ain't cause you did somethin' little like put your shit somewhere different? Ain't everythin' your fault, brother. An' it's okay even if they are your fault. Don't gotta beat yourself up over every little thing."

You huff and avert your eyes as Gamzee's head pops up over yours in your field of vision, blocking out the light above, "Well who else am I supposed to beat up about it?"

Gamzee snorts and smiles down at you, "Ain't nobody gotta get beat up, best friend. You wanna chill with me a bit? Seems like a motherfucker might need it."

At first you don't know what he's asking you and then when you look at him like he's grown a second and third head Gamzee shifts his legs to jostle your head in his lap, "Wanna smoke with me, bro?"

You stare at him blankly for a few moments. He wants you to get high with him. 

Your gut reaction is to sit up and issue him a firm  _ 'what the fuck?' _ but instead you ponder it first. You've done your research and determined it seems mostly harmless. You're curious too and maybe you hope it  _ will _ let you chill out. Gamzee seems so carefree when you come home to the smell of sweet smoke and maybe you hope it'll do that for you too.

"Sure. Why the fuck not, if I'm going to just keep being a completely dysfunctional person why not just throw drugs in the mix." 

Gamzee stops how his smoothing his hands over your cheeks and he looks down at you, very serious all of a sudden, "Brother, you ain't gotta say yes if you don't wanna." 

You sit up and nod, "If I didn't want to would I overlook the opportunity to throw a big fucking hissy fit about how you even dare to suggest such a thing?"

With a snort Gamzee sits up and bumps your shoulder before placing a kiss on your temple, "You wanna right now, or should we wait 'til later. Might not be a good idea if you got other things to do tonight."

The night is already mostly gone and you have the night off tomorrow. Now would be as good a time as ever, "We can… do that right now I guess."

"Hell yeah, brother," And Gamzee goes to stand up, "Be right back. Gonna grab my shit an' get you some water. First time's a bitch."

* * *

You almost expect it to hit you like a train as you cough out a puff of suffocatingly sweet-smelling smoke and hand the pipe back to Gamzee, hacking and worrying for half a second that you might not make it. That you might just cough up one of your respiratory sacs right here, right now, and keel over dead. But then the world starts to soften around the edges. It doesn’t hit you like a train. It sneaks up on you fast and then gently drags you down.

Or maybe that’s just Gamzee’s arms as he gives you a few solid pats on the back and pulls you in for a hug, placing a glass of water in your hands, “Aww bro, you did great.” His hands ruffle through your hair as you take the water and open your mouth to let out a retort, only the world feels soft and instead you cough again and down about half the glass of water. Then you breathe a moment longer, set the cup down on one of the side tables by the couch, and lean back into Gamzee’s hands in your hair.

“Thought I was gonna die for a second there, I really thought for half a second that I was going to just keel over dead because I dared to do a drug.”

Gamzee laughs, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over the top of your head, “You gotta chill the motherfuck  _ out, _ brother.”

“I am chill,” You respond almost immediately, which you now realize makes you sound like the least chill shitlicker this side of the universe, “I’m chiller than I’ve been fucking  _ ever. _ I can see why you do this shit all the time now. God, hey scratch my scalp. That feels fucking incredible.”

You can feel Gamzee giggling behind you as he runs his fingers through your hair and then does as you’ve demanded and starts scratching at the base of your skull and raking his nails through your hair, He lets out a cough and a puff of smoke of his own, coughing and snickering out, “Mother _ fuck _ you are the cutest motherfucker like this. Got all that noise up in your pan what’s holdin’ you back to sit down and shut up an’ let you enjoy this beautiful life for a most righteous moment.” You didn't even notice he'd gone ahead and taken the pipe back to take a drag on the shit that's just floating in a haze over your heads now.

You understood maybe a third of the things that came out of his mouth, but they resonate with you so you just kind of nod your head and roll over to push Gamzee to lay down on the couch so you can drape your whole body over him. He snickers and moves to set the pipe and lighter down before settling in along the cushions of the couch. Demandingly, you grab each of his arms and pull one over the small of your back. The other you grab by the hand and shove into your hair in a clear display of what you want. You then wrap your arms as best you can around his midsection and drop your face into his chest, “Who knew physical contact could be so fucking good holy shit.”

Gamzee’s still laughing at you, it keeps bubbling up out of his chest, disturbing the perch of your chin on Gamzee’s sternum. You don’t really mind though, everything’s soft around the edges and Gamzee keeps brushing his fingers through your hair and trailing the claws of the other hand up and down your spine. Occasionally he’ll rub a thumb into the base of one of your horns so good that you make a sound you can’t even think to stop until it’s already past your squawk blister.

You lay there on Gamzee’s chest, only half paying attention to anything he says to you. Mostly it’s how cute you are, you think. Oddly, you don’t really give a shit if being called cute feels like being talked down to. Right now it just feels good. Your moirail thinks you’re cute and goddamnit, maybe you  _ are. _ You’ll go back to not believing that in a few hours, but for right now you can bask in it.

Gamzee latches onto that, though. He picks up on the fact that you’re finally letting him say nice things to you, and he just doesn’t stop. He sighs with a smile in his voice and his fingers in your hair, “Brother you’re all up an’ the most motherfuckin’ miraculous palemate a motherfucker could ever get his hopin’ on for. Got so much strength all in your soul. A motherfuckin’ privilege gettin’ to help you not have to be strong. Y’know? Get to be strong for you sometimes, Make it so you can be all soft ‘round the edges sometimes. Take a load off for ya so I can watch you shine. See all the bits what make you imperfect and love each an’ every one of ‘em.”

You can’t follow what he’s saying entirely, but you feel the words, really feel them. You started crying somewhere in the middle there. The tears snuck up on you just like everything else since you took a hit. You’re not  _ sad  _ though. You’re not upset. It just feels so  _ good  _ to let Gamzee tell you how much he cares and to not feel guilty about it. To feel like maybe you  _ do _ deserve Gamzee’s love and adoration.

And so, eloquently, you open your mouth to express your own love back to Gamzee, “God. You’re fucking great.”

Nailed it.

Gamzee laughs and ruffles your hair, “A brother’d usually get all up in my grill ‘bout tellin’ you all that.”

You roll your eyes at Gamzee and hold up your hands, “I’m not going poking around any grills tonight.” Your arms are heavy, so you put them back down on either side of Gamzee’s torso before curling vice-like around him again, “Besides, it’s nice to hear it.”

That’s gonna come back to bite you in the ass when you’re sober, isn’t it? He’s gonna start professing his love to you all the time and…

Maybe that’s a good thing.

For now you’ll let yourself believe it’s a good thing.

His fingers keep massaging into your scalp and you can’t help but purr as he moves his hands down to start rubbing at knots in your neck and shoulders. You can’t remember the last time you’ve relaxed like this. You can’t remember the last time you just let Gamzee take care of you like this. It feels good though.

“Can we do this again sometime?” You wonder aloud.

Gamzee snickers and nods, lifting your face from his chest to rub his thumbs over your cheeks, and then into your temples, “Yeah, bro. We can do this again. Getcha all fuckin’ outta your pan so I can all up an’ get my most unrighteous care-struts onto my palebro.”

“Good,” You respond, dragging your pan just a little out of the haze it’s been marinating in to look at Gamzee, “I’m really fucking pale for you. You know that right? I’d take a bullet for you. Several even. Maybe a lethal amount. Gamzee, are you listening? You are so fucking important you absolute pitiful idiot. You’re too fucking good for this world and I’m gonna protect you from it, do you hear me? The world doesn’t fucking deserve you.” You don’t know where you got lost. Mostly you just wanted to make sure Gamzee knows how much you care about him, but somehow you wandered into declaring that you would give your life for him.

He seems to get it though and just laughs, though you can see the purple rising up in his ears and jawline where his paint doesn’t quite reach, “I wouldn’t ever ask you too, brother. You get your motherfuckin’ chill on, aight? Jus’ breathe an’ let your pan do what it wants.”

That’s what you’ve  _ been  _ doing. Your pan just wants you to profess your undying pity for your moirail, that’s all. You sigh and scoot up so that you can tuck your face into Gamzee’s neck, “Mostly my pan wants to either say embarrassing goopy shit to you about how much I pity you with my whole pusher, or take a nap.”

"Don't see why a motherfucker can't do both."

You whine and press a kiss under Gamzee's jaw. You don't have the words right now to explain how much showing just how much you care scares you so much. You don't have the words to tell him that you're afraid of the universe taking him away if you dare to love him too much, or of him deciding to leave you. Instead you say, "You're just… really good. And the universe doesn't like it when I have good things." 

Gamzee sighs and for a moment you think he might be upset with you, but then he speaks up in that gentle raspy voice of his and says, "Ain't mean you can't let yourself enjoy good shit while it's here, best beloved." 

His words hang in the air and you let them sit with you for a while. 

After a few moments of your uncharacteristically contemplative silence you sigh and concede, "I'll consider it." 

Gamzee's chest rises and falls slow and deep and you look up at him to see a languid smile, "That's all I motherfuckin' ask, brother."


End file.
